


Lost Dreams

by Hatsumomo



Category: Flow - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 12:51:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16305590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatsumomo/pseuds/Hatsumomo
Summary: Irang found her at the edge of the surf, staring forlornly into the deepening dusk, her fiery hair glowing faintly in the dying light.





	Lost Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fan fiction regarding Flow, a webtoon comic by Honey B. There doesn't seem to be any fandom for it, so I'm just posting this. I hope that I didn't make a mistake just creating my own category; I don't really know how this all works. 
> 
> As long as someone out there enjoys it, I suppose, it's fine.

Irang found her at the edge of the surf, staring forlornly into the deepening dusk, her fiery hair glowing faintly in the dying light. Her hands hung loosely at her sides, bleeding slightly from where her nails had dug in not long ago. She didn’t turn around as he approached.

She’d been stunned silent, for a change, the moment he revealed his anima. Then she had walked off abruptly, away from what she’d seen, from the one who crushed her oldest, most desperate dream. For the longest time, he’d suspected that she knew the truth deep inside, but had continued to hope despite it. Then he’d come along, and hurled her painfully back into reality. He didn’t know what it felt like, to bear the guilt of the death those closest to him. He didn’t know what it meant to face disappointment and resentment every day from the one that should have loved him the most.

He did know, though, what it felt like to feel a dream crumble and fall from between his fingers, to be subject to the gods’ twisted sense of humour. He knew it all too well.

He stopped next to her, the tip of his shoes at the glistening border on the sand, the salty breeze tugging its gentle fingers through his loose hair. Through the corner of his eye he could see her profile against the misty purple and orange gradient of the sky, none of her usual pride and strength present in her posture. The line of her mouth wasn’t set in her usual scowl or one of her brilliant smiles, but somewhere in the empty in-between. 

“I had a friend once,” he said, breaking the quiet. She gave no indication that she was listening, but he continued anyway. “She was very similar to you.” He sighed and buried his hands in his pockets, pulling a slow, deep breath through his nostrils and weighing his words in his head with care. 

“She grew up with the guilt of her first wish, thinking her father hated her and all that she represented. She grew up hating herself,” he said. “In the end, she found out that her father felt unworthy to be her parent, that he hated being the cause for her loneliness. He told her how he regretted being so cowardly and not telling her sooner. She laughed to me then, even as she cried, saying how silly it was… with the both of them feeling ashamed and guilt-ridden, and only realizing when it was too late to change things.” 

Irang turned to look at her then, watching her face intently. Her eyes were downcast and pained, and her small mouth trembled. He wanted more than anything to comfort and hold her close then, but he kept his distance. Instead, he looked forwards again, offering what little he could through his words.

“She said that she only wished she’d realised earlier that it wasn’t worth it trying to be something she never was. She said that it was far better to strive to be the most she could be with what she already had.”

He paused to watch the moon cross past the last few nebulous layers of colour on the horizon, climbing into the broad blue-black mantle of the night sky. The breeze slowed and grew colder, and the wash of the water gradually ebbed further and further from their feet. 

“She was able to find herself after that, I think,” he said. And even as he spoke them, the weight of his next words impressed heavily on his chest. “By putting her impossible dreams behind her… she was able to move forward with her life.”

For a heart-stopping moment, he saw a beautiful woman before his eyes, her red hair hanging just past her shoulders, a large, puckered scar in her left shoulder. He saw her holding her two children close, her slender arms protecting them when nothing and nobody else would. Her eyes were a vivid red, shining and fierce. A deep, aching sense of longing twisted terribly at his heartstrings as he thought of the future he’d given up. Shakily, he took a breath of the cold, salty air, and released it, letting the tension in his chest bleed out into the open night.

She didn’t say anything for the longest time, even as the lights of the city behind them started flickering into being one by one, drowning out the few lonely stars in the sky. When she finally spoke, her voice was husky from her unshed tears. 

“That friend you talked about – it’s me, isn’t it?” 

Irang froze for a second, before smiling to himself. “You’ve always been unbelievably quick, Harin.”

When she looked at him, he could see a small smile growing on her lips, and a familiar sharpness returning to her eyes, despite how they shined tremulously in the moonlight. She turned and started walking across the pale sand back to the city, beckoning him with a look that she threw over her shoulder. Watching her hair bounce as she walked, he could feel his heartstrings twisting into place again, and his face warmed a little despite the cooling night. He made a promise quietly then in his heart. _This time, I’ll give you the future that you fought so hard for, Harin. No matter what. ___

____

____

“Tell me everything,” she said, her teasing voice pulling him from his thoughts. “Tell me about how awesome I was in the future.” 

He laughed under his breath, and began with the first thing that popped into his mind – surprisingly, a memory of how she coached him during the ranking competitions, and accredited herself entirely for his every success. The two of them walked almost shoulder-to-shoulder, picking their way over the still-warm sand.

Behind them, the wind died down, and the sound of the surf faded quietly.

He kept her company as the edge of the horizon bled black and the moon rose to its highest seat in the sky.


End file.
